


All Our Little Dreams

by Aviantei



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Angst, Character Death is more referring to stuff that happens in canon than anything new, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon, Twelve Shots of Summer, Twelve Shots of Summer: Gotta Write 'Em All!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22136158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviantei/pseuds/Aviantei
Summary: [One Shot] Even years later, the dreams still haunt him. But it's the dreams that make everything seem like it's okay that are the worst of all. [Twelve Shots of Summer: Gotta Write 'Em All!]
Relationships: Leo Baskerville/Elliot Nightray
Kudos: 13
Collections: Twelve Shots of Summer





	All Our Little Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot was originally posted on fanfiction.net on July 21, 2018. It was one of my entries for the [Twelve Shots of Summer] challenge, in which I went back to work on the year two, week eight prompt "Back in the day..."
> 
> Pandora Hearts is a series I only really got into about two years ago at this point, and I had a lot of feels. Specifically I wanted to vent about my Elliot and Leo feelings, along with explore the sort of relationship Leo and Vincent would have as Baskervilles in a post-canon environment. Hence, this was the result!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**All Little Dreams**

By: Aviantei

[Twelve Shots of Summer: Gotta Write ‘Em All 2-8 A]

A _Pandora Hearts_ One Shot

* * *

Leo settled under the shade of a tree, grass fluttering under his weight. The world beyond his bangs was bright—too bright—so he focused on the book in his lap, with its hard cover, stiff spine, and fresh pages. The print may have formed nothing but neat, black rows, but the words themselves carried the call of distant worlds, all trapped in some faraway place Leo could never reach.

And that was fine. He’d pour himself into books for as long as he could. Because they were more welcoming than the world around him, much less inclined to—

“You ran off all the way out here again? I was starting to get worried.”

Leo blinked himself back to awareness, disoriented as the world of the text melted back into the sunlight coated reality. Above him stood Elliot, his neat black suit cutting a sharp line against the brightness behind him. A breeze slipped through the leaves overhead, rattling branches together. Leo felt his expression twist into a pout. “I haven’t been gone that long,” he said as he marked his place, belatedly realizing that he’d read at least a quarter of its contents in one sitting. It had felt like seconds.

Elliot crouched down, a good-natured smile on his face. It seemed he was in high spirits, and Leo’s mouth started to curve upwards. Elliot reached out a hand, knocking his knuckles against the hardcover volume in Leo’s grip. “You always get so lost when you read. Do try to be a little more considerate.”

“You’re one to talk.” They were both the same in that regard; if they had the time, the world could get whisked away in favor of reading. Those times were some of Leo’s favorites, right next to when they would play piano together. Elliot chuckled with a quick shrug, but his hand still rested on Leo’s book. “You seem to be forgetting that I only agreed to be your servant so that I could raid your library.”

“Ha!” Elliot’s teeth flashed white in a carefree grin, and so much happiness began to swell in Leo’s heart that he thought he would burst. “I think we both know things are a bit different now.” Still crouching, Elliot plucked the book right out of Leo’s hands and went about thumbing through the pages. “An adventure novel? Don’t you get enough excitement with everything else going on?”

Without the book in his hands, Leo began to pluck at the grass beside him, each blade thin and waxy between his fingers. Chains, the Abyss, the Baskervilles—action it may have been, but that didn’t mean that was what he was looking for. “You like these sorts of stories, too, Elliot. They’re fun to talk about.” He’d never had someone to talk about books with before, though that had partway been his fault. “And besides, we never travel too far from home. It’s nice to learn about other places when you read about someone traveling through them.”

“Is that so?” Leo nodded, trying not to squirm underneath Elliot’s gaze. “Well then,” Elliot said, setting the book aside and leaning forward, plucking the glasses right off the bridge of Leo’s nose. On instinct, he shrunk in on himself, back pressing into the bark of the tree. Since he didn’t need the glasses to see, Elliot’s face remained in perfect clarity, from the beautiful blue of his eyes to the mole on his left cheek. “Honestly. If you want to learn about other places, you should just go and do it yourself. But you can’t expect to do that without actually looking at the world first.”

“It’s not that big a deal.” Leo dropped his gaze to his lap, attempting to drop his bangs further over his eyes. “Books are fine.” Books didn’t look back at you—books didn’t judge, because they couldn’t see. Elliot didn’t judge, either, but trying to hold eye contact with him was just plain unnerving. “You’re being a bigger pain than usual.”

Elliot’s reassuring expression gave way to a twitch of irritation. There was no easier way to distract him than launching into another round of bickering, so that was fine. “And you’re being cheekier than usual, it seems.”

“You were the one who went on and on about wanting someone who would tell you like it is, Elliot. I’m just doing by duty.”

“Yes, I wanted someone I could talk to honestly and equally.” Elliot’s even tone quashed the spark of agitation brewing between them, and he set the glasses atop the book, both aside in the grass. Leo considered grabbing for them but couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not with the way Elliot was watching him. “You keep hiding yourself away, Leo. Don’t you want to see what’s out there for yourself?”

A surge of loneliness and fear overcame Leo, dragging his heart down to the earth. He sat up straight, trying not to be hyperaware of the few scant inches between the two of them. “I really don’t want to go. I don’t need to see anything.”

Elliot’s frown drew a crease down the middle of his brow that had always seemed like it would leave wrinkles. “Why are you being so stubborn? If you want to see something, then you should just go.”

Leo’s hands clenched into fists. “Don’t go making it sound so easy.”

“What about it isn’t easy?”

“You wouldn’t understand!”

“Just tell me why you won’t even give it a chance!”

“Because you’re not here!” Leo sucked in a breath the moment after his voice cracked and the realization hit him once again: Elliot was dead, left for the Abyss, and Leo was the one who had been left behind. The tears welled up, and he had no sense of mind to stop them. “You’re gone, Elliot, and I’m not strong enough.”

Elliot dropped out of his crouch, thumping to the ground. He reached his hands out again, dropping them on Leo’s shoulders with a press of warmth. The tears spilled over onto Leo’s cheeks. “Don’t talk nonsense about yourself. I know who I had by my side for so long.” With a gentle touch, Elliot brushed Leo’s bangs away, though they were shorter, trimmed into the neat haircut Vincent had given him. “You finally went ahead and showed off those eyes of yours. You should put them to good use.” Leo was torn by the desire to look away from their proximity to wanting to see as much as Elliot as possible before the illusion disappeared. “I want you to be happy.”

“How can you say that?” Leo trembled but didn’t shake off Elliot’s grip. “How do you think I could ever—”

“Why do you think you can’t?” The rest of the world seemed to melt, the tree and patch of grass vanishing into the light surrounding them. Even the book and pair of glasses vanished, leaving just Elliot and Leo in the bright void. “Leo, you’ve always been the one to hold yourself back the most. You’ve been afraid of making a mistake over reaching for what you want.” Elliot’s hand slipped off Leo’s shoulder, and he fumbled to grab on before it was too late. “You don’t need to hesitate anymore.”

“Please don’t.” Leo didn’t care if he was begging. “I can’t—"

Elliot’s smile shimmered as the rest of him faded into particles of light. “You can.”

“But I don’t what to go without you!” Leo closed his hand over Elliot’s, but there was nothing left to hold onto. “ _Elliot—!_ ”

But he was gone, and the only light left was what trickled through the window of the bedroom, signaling that it was morning.

Unable to do anything else, Leo drew in a shuddering breath.

* * *

The spread of breakfast before him was as exquisite as always, though Leo found he had not a speck of appetite. The previous night’s fish had been repurposed, alongside with freshly fried eggs and breakfast rolls. It had been prepared with care, and Leo’s own experience from the servant’s position gave him an appreciation for the work that most other nobles didn’t quite possess, but it couldn’t quite rouse any sense of hunger out of his unsettled stomach.

Dreams of Elliot were no uncommon occurrence. He’d had them on a nightly basis following the incident at Isla Yura’s mansion, though they had all been nightmares. Those cropped up from time to time, too, but most were like the one he’d just had: a peaceful scenario that shattered the moment it was recognized as a falsehood.

Being mostly pleasant didn’t stop them from disconcerting him, though.

And so, Leo stared at his meal and nothing more.

“You’re more quiet than usual this morning,” Vincent said, making his way back into the room with a tray of fresh tea. Locks of his golden hair spilled over the dark color of his clothes, and his mismatched eyes peered at Leo with an unsettling awareness. He didn’t break stride as he crossed to the table, gaze falling on the untouched plate. “You haven’t eaten, either, my master. Is something troubling you?”

It was very much a rhetorical question; Vincent, though only in service for a handful of years, knew Leo well enough to perceive when something was wrong. Not that Leo was making it difficult. He sighed, trying to at least pick up his fork. “I didn’t rest well last night,” he said, though Vincent knew what those words meant.

“I see.” With the faintest of clatters, Vincent deposited the tea tray on the table and set about pouring a cup. The subtle, warm aroma of congou mingled with the rest of breakfast. Without even asking for direction, Vincent added quick dashes of cream and sugar before placing the cup beside Leo’s plate. He didn’t press for more information—though he would if Leo didn’t speak up.

Leo contained his grimace, abandoning his fork for the drink. The temperature and flavor were as perfect as ever, letting subtle sweetness spread across his tongue. Once swallowed, it didn’t seem to upset his stomach. The faintest approval eased into Vincent’s expression. Leo ran his fingers over the handle, wishing the smooth porcelain would soothe his nerves. “I still miss Elliot.”

His voice didn’t break, but that was a small grace. Though Leo hadn’t aged at all, it had still been years since Elliot had passed. There were so many other concerns that he dealt with on a day to day basis as head of the Baskervilles, ones that should have captured so much of his attention that he didn’t have time to think of much else, but Elliot was there, forever lingering in Leo’s mind. There was still the better part of a century left, yet Leo still counted down the years until Elliot would return from the Abyss.

Part of him knew the pain he felt from the loss was justified. The other part just felt guilty that he couldn’t move on.

The sunlight shined in through the windows, leaving the whole of the dining room bright. At the right angle, Vincent’s hair almost had a pinkish tint to it—then he spoke, and the silence was broken: “We can’t retrieve others from the Abyss, no matter how much we try. However, we can keep ourselves occupied until it’s time for them to return.” Leo nodded, giving up on reading Vincent’s expression in favor of watching the steam rise from his teacup. “You don’t have any outstanding duties today, my master. Shall I find something to occupy your mind?”

“I don’t think that would be helpful.” At any other time, a distraction would mean books. That was how Leo had always stopped thinking, as far back as the orphanage. But Elliot’s words added another pang of guilt to the already complicated swirl of emotions, even if it had just been said in a dream. How long did Leo intend to hide himself away just because he feared reality? “Vincent, be honest when you answer this: Is it really okay for me to live all by myself?”

Vincent made a contemplative hum and then moved to sit down in the chair beside Leo. It was a sign that they would be speaking as equals, one that Leo had encouraged. Knowing it would be rude not to, Leo lifted his gaze, though he feared Vincent’s disapproving expression. Instead he found an even, if still somewhat stern look over the older man’s features. “I believe you told me that you intended to take charge of the Baskervilles.”

“Yes.” It hadn’t been his original plan, but it did no good to run away, to erase himself amongst the souls of past Glens. Vincent nodded a few times, a contemplative light burning in his eyes.

“Wouldn’t you day that’s a decision you made for yourself—of how to live on your own?” Leo attempted to find a response, but none was forthcoming; all words and logic seemed to have escaped his mind, as fleeting as the steam from a fresh cup of tea. Vincent adjusted the cuffs of his jacket, seeming more than satisfied with Leo’s stunned state. “Leo, I know what it’s like to live your entire life for the sake of someone else. I haven’t endured the same losses you have, but I’ve lost my way more than once. And you haven’t lost yourself near to the depths I did.”

Leo unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “You’re exaggerating.”

“Not in the slightest.” Vincent pointed a finger halfway in Leo’s direction. “I know you believe you haven’t achieved anything by your own power. And, yes, you had encouragement to fight against Oswald. And Elliot did very much to help you blossom. But these past years, you’ve been taking your role seriously and done well.” Leo sucked in a breath but didn’t get the chance to complete his thought. “I’ve merely been a support system. I told you before: You are Leo Baskerville. You’ve earned that.” Feeling uncomfortable, Leo tried not to squirm as Vincent’s expression gave way to one of his thin smiles. “Besides, don’t you think it would be worth it to have plenty of stories to tell Elliot when you see him again?”

The swell of emotion stuck a lump in Leo’s throat, but he didn’t cry. It was more than he’d cried himself out earlier. Something in him felt light, like there was a spark of hope that had been hiding deep inside him for so long and it was at last allowed to rise to the surface.

_How long has it been since I last let myself feel so satisfied?_

Vincent stood, pushing his chair back into place with a faint drag across the wooden floor. “That’s all I wished to say to you on the matter, my master,” he said, shifting back to his position without ease. “Now, is there anything else I can tend to for you? Perhaps another meal?”

The jest made Leo turn back to the table with a grimace. The neat dishes, without a single misplaced item, waited. “This will be fine.” The meal may not have been at peak condition, but their exchange hadn’t lasted long enough to ruin any of the taste. Leo picked up his abandoned fork once more, faint thoughts lingering in his mind. “Vincent, do you know much about traveling? Besides making visits to other houses, I mean.”

“Hm?” Vincent flicked his eyes up from collecting the unneeded tea tray, though his hands never stopped moving. “I wouldn’t say I’m an expert, but I know plenty enough to get started.” Even though he’d switched back to bring the servant, that amused look never quite faded from his face. “Is there somewhere you’d like to go?”

The names of all the places he had ever imagined through the words in books flashed through Leo’s mind at once, no one more discernable than the other. He retrieved his knife to cut off a piece of fish. “Not anywhere in particular. It’s just that I thought it might be nice to go somewhere.”

“Understood,” Vincent said, a chuckle brewing beneath his words as he strode to the door. “I can look into the matter.”

“Thank you, Vincent.” Leo hoped that the gratitude he wanted to convey made it into his voice. “For everything you’ve done for me.” His eyes crossed paths with Vincent’s, though not for longer than a split second.

“It’s my pleasure. Now, be sure to eat before your breakfast goes completely cold.”


End file.
